[doodhwale_bhaiya]

Simran was thrashing and protesting the entire time.
 
“Bhola ruk jao… panty mat nikaalo… aaahhh… kya kar rahe ho!”
“Bhola stop… don’t take off the panty… aaahhh… what are you doing!”
 
He ignored her. Once the panty was past her hips he gave it one final strong pull. The soft, already-damp piece of fabric slid down her thighs, over her knees, and fell onto the stairs, left behind like discarded evidence.
 
Now she was completely naked over his shoulder — heavy breasts hanging, wide hips and thick ass fully exposed, smooth thighs pressed together. The cool air of the staircase touched her bare skin.
 
Bhola’s right hand came back up. Without warning he slid his middle finger between her closed thighs from behind and pushed it straight into her already wet pussy.
 
“Aaahhhhhh—!” Simran shouted, her body jerking hard on his shoulder. A long, broken moan followed as his thick finger sank deep inside her. “Bhola… nikaal… aaahhh… mat daalo… aaahhh!”
 
He kept the finger buried inside her as he continued climbing the stairs. Every step made his finger shift and press against her soft inner walls. Simran’s moans became continuous — high, helpless, and wet. Her pussy clenched around the invading finger while her heavy breasts bounced and rubbed against his back with every movement.
 
When they reached the bedroom, Bhola bent forward and carefully lowered her onto the centre of the bed. She landed on her back, completely naked, legs slightly open from the way he had been holding her. His middle finger slid out of her as he set her down. The finger was shiny with her thick juices and had a few grains of rice and a streak of dal stuck to it from earlier.
 
Bhola looked at the messy finger, then looked directly at Simran. He brought it to his mouth and slowly sucked it clean, tasting her and the leftover food together. His eyes stayed on her the entire time.
 
Simran’s face burned with shyness. She immediately crossed her arms over her heavy breasts, trying to hide the soft, milk-swollen flesh, and pressed her thighs tightly together to cover her glistening pussy. Her chest was rising and falling fast.
 
Bhola’s voice was calm but firm.
 
“Bhabhi… yahin rukiye. Hilo mat.”
“Bhabhi… stay right here. Don’t move.”
 
He turned and went back downstairs. Simran stayed on the bed exactly as he had left her, naked and breathing hard, listening to his footsteps. A couple of minutes later he returned. In his hands were two small pieces of jewellery — a delicate waist chain and a thin silver anklet.
 
He sat on the edge of the bed and held them up so she could see.
 
“Yeh pehno, Bhabhi. Main chahta hoon aap yeh hamesha pehna karein. Aap inme bahut sundar lagti ho.”
“Wear this, Bhabhi. I want you to always wear these. You look very beautiful in them.”
 
Simran’s arms were still covering her breasts. She watched as he leaned forward. Bhola gently took her wrists and moved her hands away so her heavy tits were fully exposed again. Then he slipped the waist chain around her soft midriff. The cool metal settled against her warm skin, resting just above the soft curve of her lower belly and sitting prettily against the wide flare of her hips. He adjusted it carefully so it sat perfectly.
 
Next he lifted her left leg. Simran didn’t resist. He fastened the anklet around her ankle, the small chain resting against her smooth skin. When he was done he looked at her fully naked body — the waist chain glinting against her soft stomach, the anklet on her leg, her gigantic breasts free and heavy, her pussy still wet and slightly open from his finger.
 
He ran his palm slowly over the waist chain, feeling it against her skin, then looked up at her face.
 
“Ab yeh aapke upar hi rahenge, Bhabhi. Hamesha.”
“From now on these will stay on you, Bhabhi. Always.”
 
Simran lay there on the bed, completely bare except for the two pieces of jewellery he had just put on her, her heart beating hard and her body still trembling from everything that had just happened on the stairs.
 
Bhola didn’t say another word.
 
He simply hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his pants and pushed them down in one smooth motion. The moment the fabric cleared his hips, his cock sprang free with heavy force.
 
It was a monster.
 
Thick, dark, and brutally hard. The shaft was a deep, almost blackish-brown, the skin stretched tight over heavy veins that ran along its length like raised ropes. It stood straight up, pointing slightly toward the ceiling, so rigid that it barely moved even when he shifted. The head was even darker — a swollen, bulbous, purplish-black crown that looked angry and shiny. A thick ridge separated the head from the shaft, and the tip was already wet, a clear bead of precum slowly forming and threatening to drip. The entire length was easily twelve thick inches, so girthy that an ordinary hand would struggle to close around it. Below, his balls hung heavy and full, the dark sac drawn tight with need, the two large stones shifting slightly with every small movement of his body. They looked swollen, weighted with cum, hanging low and dense between his strong thighs.
 
Simran’s eyes locked onto it and refused to look away.
 
She was in a complete trance. Her lips parted on their own. Her tongue slowly slid out, pink and wet, as if her body had already decided it needed that dark, heavy cock in her mouth. She leaned forward slightly, mouth open, ready to take the thick head between her lips.
 
Bhola’s hand suddenly shot out and grabbed a fistful of her hair from behind. He pulled her head back firmly, stopping her just short of reaching him.
 
“Abhi nehi, Bhabhi.”
“Not yet, Bhabhi.”
 
He kicked his pants completely off and climbed onto the bed. In one strong motion he slipped both hands under her armpits and lifted her as if she weighed nothing. Simran gasped as her naked body left the mattress. He carried her the short distance to the head of the bed and set her down so her back was pressed firmly against the bedrest. Then he took both of her wrists in one large hand, pulled her arms straight up, and pinned them against the wall above her head.